Legal Artistry (22 page)

"Good afternoon, little brother,” Angus said, his voice dripping with superiority. “We're here for a meeting.” Angus checked his watch before adding, “And it seems to be running a little late."

Dieter caught a hint of surprise in Gerald's eyes for a split second, and then it was gone. “It'll be just another minute,” Gerald said stiffly before leading Dieter through the door and back to his office. He said nothing until the door closed behind them. “Their attorney is Angus,” Gerald said softly. “This could be interesting."

"We rode up in the elevator together, and he didn't recognize me,” Dieter said.

"That's Angus. He only remembers people who he thinks will be of use to him.” Gerald paced for a few seconds, and Dieter watched and wondered what was going through Gerald's mind. “This really doesn't change much,” Gerald said as he stopped walking and looked at Dieter. “In fact, this might be to our advantage. Let's go to the conference room, and I'll have them escorted back."

Dieter nodded, still a bit confused, before following Gerald to a large conference room with plush chairs. Since they'd met, Gerald had been the strong one in their relationship, or at least that was how Dieter saw it, and for the first time, Dieter was worried about his lover. Lawsuit be damned—he didn't want to come between Gerald and his brother. A pitcher of water and some glasses sat on a tray in the center of the table, and Dieter poured himself a glass, gulping the water as Gerald took the chair next to him. “Dieter, this is Brian, my managing partner. He'll be joining us if that's all right with you."

"Of course,” Dieter stood up and shook Brian's hand. They'd met a few times, but Dieter hadn't remembered his name, and he was grateful Gerald had supplied the help.

"You know who the opposing attorney is?” Brian asked Gerald, and he nodded forcefully before standing up as Angus entered the conference room, followed by the two other men. Dieter saw no sign of surprise from Angus as he and his associates took seats across the table from them.

"Let's get this dispensed with, shall we? I've already filed a motion with the court to dismiss the case on the grounds of national sovereignty. The courts in this country have no jurisdiction, and you know it,” Angus explained forcefully, speaking to Brian, and Dieter lowered his eyes to the table.

"The Austrian government made money on the property in question in the United States—that means the courts do have jurisdiction and national sovereignty doesn't apply,” Gerald answered, and Angus's head snapped to his brother. “But before we go any further, I think introductions are in order. I'm Gerald Young, and this is Brian Watson, one of our partners.” Brian stood and shook hands with the other man. “This is Dieter Krumpf, our client.” Dieter shook hands with the other attorneys and saw the instant Angus recognized him.

"I'm Angus Young, and these are my associates, Steven Gillespie and Jonas Holt, and so there's no misunderstanding, Gerald Young is my brother,” Angus added to his associates before taking his seat once again. “That still doesn't change the fact that your case is really reaching."

Gerald didn't rise to the bait. “Your client requested this meeting, so we're not going to debate the case here. That's for court.” He spoke strongly and confidently, which Dieter found a little exciting. “So why don't you come to the point."

Dieter felt his eyes shift from Angus to Gerald and then back, like he was watching some sort of imaginary tennis match.

"I've also submitted a motion to have your ‘evidence’ gathered at the Belvedere suppressed. There's no way to know those copies are genuine, and without access to the original documents, they can't act as proof, and you know it.” Angus glared across the table, and Dieter's eyes shifted back to Gerald.

Opening his case, Gerald pulled out one of the copies they'd obtained. “You mean the official seal on the document from the Belvedere itself isn't enough? You should have done your homework, Angus. All the copies were certified by the Belvedere and consequently the Austrian government, since they own the institution, so I tend to believe your motion to suppress will be denied, just like all the other frivolous motions you can come up with. Is there anything else? Or did you come here simply to throw your excess weight around. That may work with other people, but not with me,” Gerald added, and Dieter swung his eyes to Angus, who looked almost murderous. “I have provided copies of all the documentation we're using to prove our case. It's quite voluminous and very thorough, so you'll need to be on the top of your game with this one. Is there anything else?"

"No.” Angus stood up and walked toward the door of the conference room before turning around dramatically. “My client has authorized a return of the seven non-Pirktl paintings in return for dropping this baseless suit right now, but that offer terminates when I leave this room.” Angus turned and took a step toward the door. Dieter's heart pounded in his chest, and his eyes turned to Gerald, wondering what he was going to do or say. He didn't know how he felt about just those paintings, but getting them back would be something. Gerald never looked at him, though; his eyes were glued on his brother. Angus took another step toward the door.

"About those particular works of art,” Gerald started to say, and Angus turned with a smug look on his face. He looked as though he thought he'd won, and Dieter felt his heart sink slightly as he looked at Gerald. “I contacted a friend in the art-theft division of the FBI. He works closely with Interpol on a lot of cases, including a case last year that returned two Rubens stolen from a museum in Spain. It seems he's contacted his colleagues at Interpol, and they're quite interested in those seven paintings. They were fascinated to think that the Belvedere is in possession of stolen art.” Gerald's voice seemed so confident and self-assured, but his brother's face fell and his eyes burned at Gerald. “So I suggest you inform your client that in order to avoid an investigation into their entire collection as well as international press and scrutiny, those seven paintings will be returned to my client immediately. And just so we're clear, the lawsuit will continue. We're not backing down,” Gerald said firmly, and though he hadn't raised his voice much beyond a whisper, the power behind it was more than evident.

"Shouldn't you ask your boyfriend what he wants?” Angus asked with a raise of his eyebrows in his direction, and Dieter shifted in his seat. He actually opened his mouth to say something, but Gerald beat him to it.

"I know what he wants. Those paintings that hang in that gallery in Vienna are his family legacy.
The Woman in Blue
is a portrait of his great-grandmother. These aren't some nameless pieces of art being grabbed at by some greedy divorcee, like your usual clients. These are a link to his past, and they belong to him. They were stolen from his family first by the Nazis and then by the Austrian government. So take that back to your clients along with the fact that we will fight them with every weapon in our arsenal, and that includes the media. They'll eat this up, especially against a foreign government."

Angus moved back to the table and leaned over it, his face right in Gerald's. “You don't want to take me on, little brother,” he hissed.

Gerald stood up, leaning back across the table. “No. You don't want to take me on, old man. I'm going to screw with you six ways from Sunday. I've seen you in court, and I know how you operate. So I suggest you go back to your office and give your clients the bad news. Because we will drag them through so much mud, the Viennese tourist board is going to wonder why there are no Americans in town. Now, you have a lot of explaining to do, so I suggest you go to it.” Gerald motioned his head toward the door. “I'll expect to hear from you soon regarding the tracking numbers for the shipment of seven paintings. My offer is limited, and then I let loose the hounds."

Gerald sat back down, and Dieter watched as he turned to him. “Just tell me when he's gone,” he said very softly, and Dieter met Gerald's eyes before glancing up as the three opposing attorneys left the conference room. Dieter saw Brian get up and close the door behind them.

"They're gone, Gerald,” Brian said before bursting into ecstatic laughter. “Jesus Christ, I thought he was going to shit a brick when you mentioned the FBI and Interpol. Remind me never to play poker with you."

Gerald turned his head toward the other attorney. “I wasn't bluffing. These officers on the art-recovery teams would love nothing more than to have reason to go into these museums and make them produce provenance for every item in their collections. Most museums have items in their collections that don't really belong to them. The Metropolitan in New York recently returned a number of items that were found to be looted art that had made its way into their collection over the years. The Austrians were among the worst in getting looted art that was turned over to them back to its owners,” Gerald explained before turning back to Dieter. “Are you okay?"

Dieter nodded, still barely able to believe what he'd just seen. “I guess so."

"Brian,” Gerald said, “would you give us a few minutes?"

"Of course.” Dieter saw Brian leave the room, and he wanted to throw himself at Gerald to feel the other man's arms around him.

"What's bothering you? Don't say ‘nothing’ because I can tell by the way you're biting your lips that something has you shaken,” Gerald said as he touched Dieter's arm, fingers brushing lightly over his skin.

"I don't want to come between you and your family.” Dieter could no longer meet Gerald's eyes and looked toward the floor. He'd never had brothers and sisters, or much of a family, except Gram and Auntie Kate, and he didn't want to be the cause of Gerald losing his. “The way Angus looked, he's going to be mad at you forever."

"No, he won't, and so what if he is? I was doing my job, and he was doing his. That comes with the territory.” Dieter felt Gerald's fingers under his chin and he lifted his head. “If you want me to step away from this case, I will. You are more important than any legal case, and you're also more important to me than my brother, who, in case you haven't guessed, is a bit of an ass, even on a good day. I don't want you to feel bad about anything."

"Is this one of those client/boyfriend separation things?"

"No. Not this time. This is one of those, ‘I don't want my boyfriend to feel bad because I had to do my job’ things. This is what I do, and I'm good at it. I know I looked angry with Angus, but that was just an act. The same as he was acting with me, at least partially. Part of the job is trying to intimidate your opponents. It's a bit of gamesmanship, and today I showed him we're not a team to be messed with."

"We?” Dieter asked.

"Yes, Dieter. We're a team."

"But I didn't do anything,” Dieter said.

"Yes, you did. You were here, and I knew that and felt you here. In a way, it gave me strength and added that extra bit of conviction,” Gerald said, and Dieter looked toward the glass door and saw a couple heads peering into the room. Ignoring them, he turned his attention back to Gerald. “I meant what I said. I'll turn this case over to Brian and become just your boyfriend if that's what you want. You are more important to me than anything. I waited a long time to find someone as caring and wonderful as you, and I'm not going to let you go over something as marginal as a legal case.” Dieter felt Gerald smooth his hair away from his forehead, the touch soothingly kind and thoughtful.

"You'd really do that? I know you think this is your chance to make a name for yourself.” Dieter didn't know what to think. “No,” he added, making up his mind. “I want you fighting for me in the courtroom and loving me in the bedroom. You were amazing today.” Dieter swallowed hard around the lump forming in his throat before putting his arms around Gerald's neck and tilting his head to kiss him.

A small knock on the door sounded through the room, but Dieter ignored it. He was the client, after all, and if he wanted to kiss his attorney in the conference room, he was going to damn well do it. “I think we have an audience,” Gerald said, smiling against Dieter's lips.

"Don't care. Do you have more work to do or can we go?” Dieter asked quietly as he met Gerald's eyes. “I want to be alone with you right now. You were so strong, so confident earlier, and it was really"—Dieter swallowed, wondering what Gerald would think of him—"kind of super-hot."

Gerald smiled and then threw his head back in a deep rich laugh. “Sweetheart, you better believe I'm done for the day. And just for the record, you're always kind of super-hot.” Gerald got up from his chair and tugged Dieter to his feet. “Let's go before we completely scandalize the straight people.” Gerald walked toward the door, and Dieter followed him. Pulling it open, Gerald stepped out into the hallway, leading Dieter toward his office. Gerald seemed to be ignoring the looks he was getting from his coworkers, so Dieter did as well, until he saw Harold Prince standing in Gerald's doorway with his arms crossed. Gerald walked right up to him, staring him in the eyes.

"What was that in the conference room?"

"A meeting with my client,” Gerald replied in a level voice. “I'd appreciate it in the future if everyone in the office would remember that client conferences are confidential."

Dieter suppressed a snicker as Harold stepped aside, looking slightly amused. “I heard that your meeting went very well. I'd like you to fill me in, but I think tomorrow morning is soon enough.” Harold turned, and Dieter watched as he walked back to his office. Gerald gathered his papers, placing them in his case before saying good night to people as they walked toward the lobby.

A buzz of excitement thrummed through Dieter's body as he rode the elevator down with Gerald, standing close enough to feel the waves of energy rolling off Gerald from the confrontation with his brother. He seemed to glow with it, and Dieter felt himself drawn to him like a magnet.

"I'll meet you at my house,” Gerald told him, holding his hand before letting go and hurrying to his car. Dieter watched Gerald go for a second before rushing to his car as well, and thankfully, traffic cooperated, and Dieter was parking in front of his lover's house as Gerald was getting out of his own car. Gerald waited for him, and they walked to the front door together.